We Rise
by Forest Archer
Summary: Spoilers for Infinity War. A take on what could happen next, and how things might end. (Now with added healing, comfort and repaired relationships.)
1. We Rise

**SPOILER WARNING: This is set immediately after the end of Infinity War, please don't read unless you've seen the film.**

 _(A/N: So, I was completely shaken up by Infinity War. I was expecting something bad, but not like that! My angst needed an outlet, and that's how this happened. It is about as riddled with spoilers as anything could be, so back away now if you need to._

 _This is my attempt to fix the aftermath of the film. It is, obviously, a vastly simplified version of how things will actually resolve in the next Avengers movie. Honestly, folks, I'm just here for the emotional payoff; the actual battle sequences in this story are a lot shorter than the introspection and conversations that happen in between. I've tried to line it up to the events of the movie, but there may be errors where I was too much in shock to remember parts. I don't read the comics, I don't know anything about the stones or characters beyond what's been in the films (and in one case, a very quick web search), and I don't think this is how the next film will go at all (for example, certain villains will be a lot harder to kill, no doubt) - but the process of writing this was very cathartic, so please accept it as it is meant: an attempt to heal some of the trauma we've just experienced! It's also the longest one shot I've ever written, so I guess I really needed the outlet?)_

 **SPOILER WARNING**

* * *

The scale of that grief, the depth of loss, was beyond comprehension. It was so desperate on the personal level, and so beyond the bounds of what he could bear on the universal scale. Bucky, after everything, when he was finally getting better and finding himself again, dissolving into nothing right before his eyes, with that last, confused plea for Steve. Vision, who had tried so hard to sacrifice himself, to do the right thing, only to be used to such a terrible end. Wanda, who had done something so few would have the strength to do, that Steve did not know if he could have done, and had died with that guilt and grief so fresh. And the others, so noticeable in their absence - Sam, loyal enough to follow Steve into anything, and this was what he'd led him to. T'Challa, who had risked his entire country to help only to have ruin brought to his door. And Tony, the first of them to have died in this war, and Steve could not find any hope in him that he might have lived. The only strength in that was that he hadn't had to see what would become of everything. But even so, to have him gone before they ever saw each other again, snuffing out that spark of hope that they might one day meet across the chasm that had split through the Avengers, was another loss to carry.

But Steve couldn't carry it any more. Not this, not kneeling where Bucky had died, with so many friends lost - not when this same pain was echoing throughout the universe. Half. Half of everyone, everywhere, in planets and galaxies beyond his imagining; half of humanity and every other species there was. He had fought so hard for so long to save every life, every individual, because every life was worth any risk; everyone deserved to be protected. And he had failed so utterly when the stakes were unbearably high that he couldn't even understand it. He felt hollow, numb, unable to accept what was staring him in the face.

"We lost," he said, the words clumsy in his mouth, each atom of his existence resisting this new future. It was all he could think but it was so horrifyingly wrong, to have lost when losing wasn't an option.

When it came down to it, alliances and laws hadn't mattered one goddamned bit. Everything that had divided the Avengers was meaningless now, and so was what had united them - fighting together hadn't been enough. Maybe if they'd all been there together - but not even Tony could have saved them from this. And he'd known something was coming, hadn't he? Steve hadn't listened. Ultron had been the wrong way to go, but maybe if he'd understood what Tony was telling him, he could have done something - helped to prepare, somehow, or at least given his support to the one man who could have done.

There was the sound of armour opening, a sound so familiar that it tugged on Steve's heart, then retching. Bruce. Steve knew he should move, should rally the others, _lead_ , but he couldn't find the strength. Thanos had won, and he'd left. What the hell could they do now?

 _Bucky_. Far away, someone cried out - a terrible sound, full of grief. Steve covered his mouth with his hand, and felt a sob building in his chest.

It was insane. Half the universe sacrificed because one being deemed there were too many others alive. To use all that power to wipe out life when he could have done anything to save it - to believe he had the _right_ to make that decision on behalf of every living creature. Rage and agony roiled together in Steve's gut; he'd seen so much evil in his time but this was something else, and _how could he have let this happen?_

Natasha approached him, and it was a mark of her pain, too, that he could even hear her coming; her always silent footfalls were heavy now, and she knelt beside him. He leaned towards her instinctively and she placed a hand on his shoulder. There was no comfort in it, would maybe never be comfort in anything again, but he was grateful that she was still there. She rested her forehead on top of her fingers, whole body bowed under her grief.

No one spoke. There was nothing left to do, and nothing left to say.

* * *

"Get up."

Tony didn't respond. He didn't even look round from where he sat, rocking slightly, hands pressed to his face with one cradling the burned skin of the other. Did he even know her name, this strange, half-mechanical woman from another realm of space? He didn't care, but they were alone here now - just the two of them on this vast empty planet, in the dust of everyone who'd been snapped out of existence.

 _I don't want to go. Please, I don't want to go._

 _I'm sorry._

It was all he could hear. Peter - God, but he'd been so scared. The horror of it was burned into Tony's very existence. As long as he lived he knew it would be all he saw when he closed his eyes - Peter grabbing onto him, the fear in his eyes as he started breaking apart.

"Get. Up."

"Why?" His voice was an empty rasp. What was the point? They'd failed. He'd seen the future coming and done nothing to stop it and now Peter was dead, along with countless others on Earth and everywhere. He wasn't sure he could ever move again, wished more than ever that Strange had kept his promise and let him die.

"My sister is dead," she said, and there was something broken held so deep within her, something raw and hurting that she kept forced ever down. "I am not wallowing in my grief. I am going to change what has happened. And you are going to help me."

"Change it?" Tony said, and if there was more life in him he might have laughed scornfully. "It's over. Thanos won. There's nothing we can do."

"You saw what the wizard gave him. The time stone can undo this. I will not let what has happened stand. Gamora went with him to save me, and I will not let him win. We can turn back time, steal his victory and bring her back."

Bring her back. The idea stirred against the tide of Tony's grief. If they could turn back time, they could bring them all back. Peter, Strange, those brilliant asshole Guardians. Everyone who must have died on Earth (and he didn't even know if he could bear to know about Pepper, Happy and Rhodey, couldn't let himself think about it). Everyone everywhere else.

 _There was no other way._

Was this what Strange had seen? Had he known that by giving up the stone he was choosing a future in which they could bring everyone back? Was this the one in fourteen million chance to win? There had to have been a reason far beyond Tony's meagre life for surrendering the stone; had Strange let himself die knowing that it was the way to bring everyone back?

The glimmer of hope was enough to get his brain stirring from its apathy, but despair still clung to it, cloying and choking.

"Thanos has all the stones. He has to, he's carried out his plan. Which means that he's already been to Earth, that Vision," his voice cracked, "Vision's dead too. Thanos only came to Earth for the stones, he won't stay there. Even if we had a way to get the gauntlet off him, we have no idea where he is. And besides," he added, and oh god, there was so much stacked against them - for once this wasn't about how to win against the odds, they were trying to fight back after the battle was already lost. "We're stuck here. I crashed the ship on the way in. We've got nothing."

Nebula - _that_ was her name - rolled her eyes. For someone in the throes of grief herself, not to mention someone with a half robotic face, she had the most disdainful expression he'd ever seen. "We arrived in a ship too," she said scathingly. "And we parked properly. You and I can leave this planet."

It was probably hopeless. Thanos had the gauntlet, and what could Tony do now with only one ally and no suit that the whole lot of them hadn't been able to do before, that the Avengers must have tried and failed to do on Earth? Thanos was unstoppable.

But anything was better than staying here surrounded by the dust of Thanos' victory. If there was the slightest shot in hell, in fourteen million failed futures, of something better, then he was going to take it. For Peter, for all of them. Ideas began to race through his mind, bright flashes of new hope and theories.

Standing up was more of a challenge than he wanted to admit. Sharper and nearer to the surface than the deep pain in his soul was the physical toll of the battle. He'd accelerated the healing of the stab wound, but preventing his death wasn't the same as a full healing; even he hadn't been able to get the invention that far. His left hand was a mess, a burn that was a continual throbbing pain, useful only as a distraction from his stomach. His whole body ached from being tossed around.

But pain was grounding. It kept him sharp, kept him focused. There was a job to do here, a desperate chance to somehow seize.

"That much power," he said, scrabbling with his good hand against the nearest hunk of metal to support himself while Nebula watched dispassionately. "There has to be a way to track it. Unless he's folding reality in such a way that he can't be found. But it's somewhere to start."

"We don't need to," Nebula said, looking away at last. She didn't look back to see if he was following, but strode away across the battle site. "I know where he's gone."

Tony stared, jaw gaping, and started to hurry after her - only to find that he couldn't hope to match her pace, not when each step jolted his body enough to reignite the pain in his side, and he found himself stumbling in her wake. He tried to call after her but couldn't summon the breath, not when he had to concentrate so hard to keep his footing, and she was soon too far ahead to hear anyway. Tony resigned himself to picking his way across the field of debris, following her path as best he could, until he saw what she was aiming for - a ship, not too dissimilar to the quinjets he was used to, but this one was so much more inside - fit for travel throughout space, presumably, not just within the atmosphere of one planet.

By the time he reached it, the ship was already powering up. Tony climbed onto the ramp and it started to close immediately; swearing, he scrambled up into the ship. Safely inside as the ramp clanged closed, he tapped the centre of his chest. The rest of the suit, what was left after Thanos had ripped part of it away with the stones, peeled back unevenly. It left him feeling exposed, but he'd have to hope he could find kit around here to repair it because he was going to need it.

He was surrounded by technology far beyond that of Earth, but for the first time in his life he just didn't care. Tony ignored it all in favour of making his way up through the ship, until he found Nebula in the cabin, clearly prepping the ship for flight.

"How the hell," Tony said, lowering himself carefully into the co-pilot's seat, "do you know where Thanos is?"

"He's my father," Nebula said casually, manoeuvring the controls and lifting the ship into the air with a lurch. Tony fumbled around with his good hand, and activated his seatbelt.

He couldn't even summon the energy to be surprised by the news. "You know what, okay, fine. The big crazy titan dude is your dad."

Nebula didn't roll her eyes, but it felt like that took a great effort of will. "His plan was always to use the stones to wipe out half the universe," she said, disturbingly calm, as the ship gained dizzying amounts of speed and rose ever higher. "He always told us that. But he spoke like it was an obligation, rather than something he wanted to do. He always said that he would rest, afterwards; he talked about watching the sun rise over a grateful universe. He told us where he would go to see it."

"And you still think he'd go there," Tony said, swallowing hard as they climbed sharply. It wasn't like he could actually feel it - the ship must be designed very differently to Earth's rockets, and alright, maybe he was a bit interested - but he felt like he _should_ be able to. "Even though you and Gamora, right, have both been trying to kill him?"

"He knows Gamora is dead, and he has the infinity stones," Nebula said. "He would not think I am a threat." Tony couldn't help thinking that he'd have a point, there. "Besides, it's worth looking. Do you have a better idea?"

"Good point." He wouldn't know where to start searching - all he could have done would be to go back to Earth, and there was nothing to do there but be faced by the full weight of failure. "Alright. I've got some repairs to do, you got any tools round here?"

"Use whatever you can find," she said, shrugging. "If we save Quill's life, he can cram his complaining up his ass."

Tony could see himself liking Nebula, if they'd met in less world ending circumstances. "Great. What kind of comms do you have on here? What's the range?"

"What do you need?"

"I've got an AI waiting for me. I've got a satellite, over Earth, she'll be there. Can we reach it?"

"If you have its codes, yes. We wouldn't sweep over all that distance usually, but we can target it."

If having a ship was the first sign of hope, this was the second. He wasn't happy, might never be again, but he felt a stab of satisfaction, similar to the thought of punching Thanos in his titanic face.

"Good. If I can get to FRIDAY, I can talk to Earth."

He didn't have the phone any more, not that it would be a scrap of use out here. Two years he'd kept it charged up and carried it around, hating the infernal thing, hating what it represented and hating that he couldn't let it go. Two years - he didn't need to see the phone to know the number, he'd stared at it enough to have it memorised.

They'd come so close on Titan. Peter had nearly had the gauntlet. He'd done so damn well, and Tony had let him down.

He would do anything to undo that, no matter what the cost. It made him think of what Cap had said, years ago, about the rope and making the sacrifice play. He didn't care what the cost was to himself now, and if he was prepared to risk his life then he could damn well lose his pride. Peter needed him.

"I've got a call to make."

* * *

The sound of a phone ringing felt incongruous at the end of the world. Or the end of half the world, but it felt like the same damn thing.

Steve hadn't been able to bear leaving the clearing, and had gone no further than the edge of the trees, sitting on a fallen branch with his elbows resting on his legs, supporting his head. The battlefield was quiet. The bodies of fallen Wakandans were being carried back into the city in slow procession on glowing stretchers, and muted cries of grief now and then across the field, but there were so few out there now, the survivors of the fight as decimated by the stones as the Avengers.

The others were around him, Bruce and Rhodes both out of their suits, Thor and Natasha having laid down their weapons, though they remained in close reach. Okoye still stood, leaning on her spear, face stricken with grief. The surviving being who had arrived with Thor, Rocket, was still sitting beside where his tree-like friend had disappeared. None of them spoke. They probably knew, as Steve did, that they should go and help with the dead, but he couldn't move. Not yet. He couldn't leave the last place Bucky had stood beside him. They were all united in their horror, in the knowledge of how utterly they'd failed.

And the tinny ringtone did not belong here; it belonged in a world before all this went wrong, and Steve's thoughts were sluggish. The others shifted, he could feel them looking towards him, but he was slow to move. Hardly anyone had his number, and half of them were here and the other half - God, the other half were dead. He knew they were. Except, maybe -

Steve's heart stuttered. He ripped at his clothes, drawing out the phone with trembling fingers. He didn't recognise the number, but he didn't need to. He flipped open the phone.

"Tony?"

He turned, instinctively, towards the others as he spoke. Rocket didn't look up but the rest stared, some as breathless as Steve felt.

"Hello, Captain Rogers."

His heart sank for a second, but he knew that voice. "FRIDAY?"

"Yes, Captain. It's good to hear your voice."

"You too, FRIDAY, you've no idea. Is Tony there?"

"The boss is a long way away. I have a message from him. Can I put him through?"

"Yes! Yes."

"On speaker, Steve," Bruce said, imploring. They all needed some bit of hope here, anything. He fumbled with the phone, finding the right button and so careful not to hang up.

"It's only a recording, Captain. Just so you know."

Steve's mouth was dry. Only a recording. She sounded soft. Sad. His hope, so recently kindled, died again. Tony was the best there was for tech, at least outside of Wakanda. If all Friday had was a recording, not a two way call, was this a message Tony had made before - before something happened? Was he about to hear a dead man's voice? He stared at the phone rather than see how the others had taken that news.

"Right. Thanks, FRIDAY," he said softly. If that was true, his heart broke for her as well as the rest of them.

Then, without further warning, there was Tony's voice.

"Rogers." For a few seconds, that's all there was. Steve heard an ominous crack. He forced his fingers to relax a little before he broke the precious phone. "Long time, no talk."

His voice was a bit distant, a little crackly, which was weird for Tony's tech - but it was clear enough to hear the catch in his voice, hear the faint tremble. There was always more to Tony than the image he projected, Steve had known that since before the end of their first battle in New York, but it was usually difficult to see through it even once Steve got to know him, which was where a lot of their problems came from. No, that wasn't fair - Steve could have done more to meet him in the middle. And that was before everything that had happened two years ago, when they'd lost whatever friendship they could have had.

The thing was, it was rarely as easy to read Tony as he could right now, even without seeing with him. Tony was hurt, and that made his gut clench, made him think of when he'd seen Tony last, when he'd left him in Siberia, and he wondered how long those wounds had taken to heal. He glanced up and saw the tension in Rhodes' face, the way he strained forward like he could reach Tony through the phone.

More than the pain, Tony sounded devastated. Steve recognised that too.

"I, uh - I followed the ship that came to New York. You might've heard about it. They grabbed this asshole of a wizard who had the time stone - I'm gonna assume you know what's going on, or Fri can catch you up. We ended up on Titan, his home planet. I tried to stop him, but Thanos - Thanos got the stone. I guess you know that, because the bastard did it. He killed everyone, and I couldn't stop him."

There was a long silence, and Steve could hear something in the background - a low hum, a little like the quinjet, but different too. Tony shifted, sighed. When he spoke again his voice was quieter, and Steve suddenly wished he wasn't on speaker, knew instinctively that these words were meant only for him.

"Look. I still think we should be held accountable, but that doesn't mean shit any more. It was the Accords that started everything that went wrong, and they don't count for a damn thing now because this is so much bigger. Honestly, I could've lived with that anyway. We could've made it work - I'd always have kept saving lives, but someone had to be able to stop us if we went too far. It wasn't about that. It was that moment, that video, knowing that you knew about my parents and you never told me..." The pain in his voice make familiar guilt churn in Steve's gut. "But I get why you defended Barnes, alright? I've done a lot of reading, since Siberia, in all those HYDRA files Natasha released. I get it, and I'm sorry I didn't before. For my part in the whole damn thing, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for so many things, and now the kid too-"

His voice broke, and Steve felt sucker punched. It was so much to take in, in so short a time, but he didn't understand the last part. What kid?

But Rhodey looked ill, staring blankly ahead in horror, and Steve thought about the masked hero Tony had brought to Germany, the one who'd sounded so eager to impress him.

"What I'm saying is, I made a lot of mistakes. I'm still making them. Maybe if you'd been here, if we'd fought Thanos together - I don't know. We nearly had him - me and the kid, and Stephen Strange, and some weirdoes I met that call themselves the Guardians of the Universe or something -" Steve saw movement in his peripheral vision, as Rocket's head shot up and he hurried over to join the huddle of them around the phone. "- but it wasn't enough. We came damn close but it didn't work, and they're all gone now, all but one of them, it's just me and Nebula left."

"No." The cry was so quiet but so full of pain, and Rocket bent forward. Thor placed one hand on his back with extreme gentleness, more understanding in his face than Steve could bear to look at. They had all lost too much.

"But she reckons it can all be undone. The wizard, Strange, he was the keeper of the time stone, he saw millions of futures and in one of them, we won. Just one, but that's all we need. He traded the stone for my life, which was a damn stupid move unless he knew something. Unless he saw how we win. Nebula thinks she knows where he might be, we're on our way there now. We've got to try and take him out - if we can get the time stone, maybe we can fix all of this. If you're there, Cap, I hope you can find a way to get out here. If you made it."

There was a pause, long enough for Steve's heart to break at the old nickname Tony didn't even seem to have noticed using.

"God, I hope you're still alive. I carried that phone around for two damn years and I could never bring myself to use it. Even when Bruce told me about Thanos I couldn't make the call. I never wanted you dead, Steve, I'm sorry I never tried to figure things out while I was still on the right damn planet. We made a hell of a team, for a while there, and it meant a hell of a lot to me.

"If you're there and you've got a way to get out here, FRIDAY can set you up with the co-ordinates. Go carefully, Thanos is a mad son of a bitch and I don't know what might be waiting. Fri's gonna send you a bunch of kit for me, and a spare suit in case I can't fix this. Bring everyone - anyone who's left. We've got to hit him with everything we've got.

"If you're not there, and this message goes unanswered, then I guess there's no point saying anything. I'll do what I can to avenge you and if I die without managing it, at least I tried. Goodbye, Cap."

The sound cut out. Steve willed the message to keep going, but he knew Tony was gone. Gone - but still alive out there somewhere, on another _planet_ , and he'd said he was sorry for everything that had happened between them.

Steve knew how he felt. He wouldn't have changed it, not the parts where he'd defended Bucky at least, but it all felt so distant now, the argument about the Accords so meaningless. He'd been so sure of himself at the time, and he still didn't know that he'd do it any differently faced with the same choices, but he'd never anticipated how far that path would take him. And Bucky had still died, it hadn't mattered at all in the end.

He wished it had been a two way call, so that he could tell Tony he was sorry too. But he had a suspicion that it might have been easier for Tony to talk without him being able to reply.

But Tony was out there, thinking the rest of the Avengers might be gone, and he was prepared to fight Thanos again anyway.

"He can't take Thanos basically alone. He doesn't even have a working suit," Steve said. His voice sounded hoarse and tired, like he'd been yelling for hours. The call had both given him new life and sapped more of his strength, and he felt tired just thinking about it.

"He shouldn't need one," Rhodes said, and he looked like he'd aged ten years in ten minutes. "FRIDAY, did he tell you what happened to the nanotech?"

"No, Rhodey," FRIDAY said, and there was tension in her mechanical voice. "He could only send me a message, too, and he wasn't sure I was still here. You know the boss, he didn't go into detail. But it sounds like Thanos damaged it with the stones."

"What do you mean, he shouldn't need one?" Steve cut in.

Rhodes ran a hand over his face. "He's built it into his body," he admitted after a long moment. "It can regenerate itself now, he shouldn't ever need one of the old models. But I guess if these stones can reshape reality..."

"He can't think he can take Thanos single handed," Bruce said, shaking his head. His tone was a lot weaker than his words; he knew better than most of them that that wouldn't stop Tony. "He can't go after him."

"But he's going to try," Steve said, looking around at them. They were a weary group, but he knew they had one more fight left in them, if it could undo all of this. "Thor, you know more about the stones than the rest of us. Is it true that the time stone could bring them all back?"

"The exact abilities of the stone are a mystery to most," Thor said gravely. "But they were born at the creation of this universe. The time stone allows the user to direct the passage of time. Wielding it would take incredible power and control; I do not know who could do so without being destroyed, without protection. That is why Thanos had the gauntlet made. I believe it could be used to turn back time, to change what has passed."

"But Thanos has the stone," Natasha said, and it was so long since she'd spoken that Steve looked round sharply, seeking something - he wasn't quite sure what. The strength and surety, perhaps, that having her there had always given him. She did sound steady, steadier than the rest of them, but he knew how hard it was for her to put on that mask. "We'd have to get it off him, and even then, won't the same events just play out over and over? If time is reversed, we'll just do the same things again."

"Not if we are in the eye of the storm," Thor said. "Perhaps if we are wielding the stone, we will remain aware of the use of its power. Otherwise the bearer would never gain anything from its use, that must be how it works. If we can separate him from the gauntlet, go back, and I use this, we can kill him." He hefted the axe into the air, and light shone on the strange metal.

Hope was beginning to beat a steady pulse in Steve. He looked again at the ground where Bucky had dissolved, then around at his friends who were still looking for a cause to hang the most fragile threads of faith on.

"Tony's right," he said, and it might be years since he'd said that but he threw his own silent apology out into the universe, towards the man who was prepared to die in an effort he knew was probably futile, even if he did it alone and no one ever knew, to try and do what needed to be done. "It's a chance, and we have to take it. Thor, you got here through the Bifrost - can you get us all to a different planet that way?"

Dark, bottomless grief cross Thor's face. His gaze went again to the axe. Not for the first time, Steve wondered what had happened to him - why his right eye looked so strange, why he had the axe and not his hammer.

"Asgard is destroyed," he said hollowly. "The original site of the Bifrost is lost. But the axe gives me power over it, enough to bring the three of us here - yes, I believe I can transport more of us where we need to go."

It was another punch to the gut, but there were no words that could ease it. "Thor, I'm sorry," he said helplessly. He wanted to ask about Thor's people, but he could see the answer in his face. "FRIDAY," he said, voice breaking again, "can you send us the co-ordinates? To this planet Tony's heading to?"

"Yes, but I can do you one better," she said. "I'm tracking the ship the boss is on. If Thor can hit a moving target, you can get on board. But you'll have to move fast, I don't know how long I can hold the signal."

Thor nodded, all grim resolution. "I can do it."

"I've got a package for you," FRIDAY said. "Thor, there will be a tracker showing you the ship's position. I can send it on to you, but it'll be quicker if you can pick it up."

Thor nodded. "I can take us to the compound."

"Thanks, FRIDAY," Steve said.

"Bring him home, Captain?" the AI asked.

Steve swallowed. He wasn't entirely sure any of them would be coming back from this. "I'll do my best."

As unpredictable as her creator, FRIDAY ended the call without a goodbye. Steve stared at the phone for a few moments, and tried to pull himself back together. He felt more weary than he could ever remember, whether during the war or these recent long months on the run. This was one last, desperate hope but he just wasn't sure any more. He'd known loss and failure before, but never like this; he didn't know if he had the strength to keep fighting.

But it came down, again, to the personal. He knew that as Captain America he should be focused on the big picture, on where he could do the most good. But he didn't feel like he was Captain America any more, and Steve Rogers had always been there for the little guy, even when he _was_ the little guy. Great change started small, he'd always believed that - one person standing up for what was right could lead to so much more. And right now he wasn't sure he could get up to save the universe, but for the sake of someone who'd once been his friend, who was heading into immense danger almost alone - for that, always, he would move.

Steve stood up, feeling his old stubbornness settle into his bones. "We've got a chance," he said, and there was that determination to lead again, what Tony had always called his Captain voice. "If you don't want to come, I get it, it's okay - but anyone who does, this is our last push. There are billions of lives depending on us, on Earth and everywhere else. We owe it to them all to give this our best. Anyone who's with me, let's move now; our best bet is to join Tony before he reaches Thanos."

Steve had to give them the choice, but he knew what would happen even before he finished speaking - and he was right. Bruce and Rhodes went back to their suits, letting the metal fold safely around them. Natasha picked up her weapon again, and Rocket hoisted his gun onto his shoulder. Each face was a mirror of the same determination - the same certainty that they would march into death to set this right.

They might have lost so much, but what he still had was beautiful, and the knowledge that he might lose them too was a heavy weight. But to risk their own lives to save others - that was who they were, and always would be.

Okoye stepped forward. "I am no Avenger," she said, "but I will lay down my life to bring back T'Challa. I am with you."

Steve nodded, feeling another pang of grief at the reason for her joining them but grateful for the another warrior beside him all the same. "Thor," he said, nodding to the Asgardian. "The compound first, then we'll get FRIDAY's help to track Tony."

"Let's stop by New York, too," Bruce said. "That man, Strange, who had the time stone - there was another man with him, he might know more about the stone and how we can use it."

Natasha held up a hand, and Steve saw that she was holding her phone. "One more stop on the way too. Thor, we've got an old friend to pick up. You remember the farm?"

Thor nodded and raised the axe, and the world was overrun with rainbow light.

* * *

Tony had left the connection to FRIDAY going as best he could, but it wasn't much. He hadn't been able to work out a way for her to reach him in return - it was a shot in the dark just hoping she'd heard him at all. In his defence, he was learning all of this tech as he went. He could definitely see elements in it that he understood, and there were others he could figure out by extrapolating his own experience, but there was a lot that was totally, well, _alien_ to him, and he was wary about poking too much after having tried a combination of wires that sent a surge through the ship and temporarily shorted out the engines. Though honestly, that should not have been able to happen.

He did manage to fix his own tech, though, with a bit of tinkering. The Guardians didn't exactly have the range of tools he had back in the workshop but it wasn't like the suit itself was broken, more just that Thanos had stripped part of it away. It was just a question of getting the regenerative capability back up again, and they'd been flying for enough time that he'd managed to get it sorted. In other circumstances, the fact that he was in the middle of space that, from Earth's point of view at least, was utterly uncharted would have been beyond exciting, but right now it was just a means to an end. He flexed his hand, feeling the responsiveness of the suit, then retracted it with a sigh. He couldn't exactly test the repulsors in here, being in no particular hurry to find out how strong the ship was, so he'd just have to hope for the best.

Tony stretched, and made his way back to the cockpit.

"How far out are we?"

Nebula checked a screen. "About half an-"

The ship lurched, wildly, and there was a huge clatter from below. Tony grabbed onto the nearest seat while Nebula swore loudly, trying to correct their position.

"The hell was that?" Tony said, craning to look outside, but all he could see was the same endless, star-specked dark, with the occasional distant asteroid field. "Did we hit something?"

"There's nothing around us," she said furiously, tapping at the nearest screen. "There's something in the ship."

"Something _in -_ " Tony reactivated the suit, instantly reassured as it crept over his skin. Whether he could use its weapons or not, he felt better for having the defence. "I'll go and look."

Nebula didn't reply, though it was hard to say if that was because she was busy or didn't particularly care. Tony descended into the large space below where he'd originally entered the ship.

And stopped, boots clanging to a halt on the metal floor, to stare in wordless shock.

There were eight people in front of him in what _had_ been an empty hold, all standing on a smouldering symbol on the ground that he'd seen before. He gawped, mouth agape behind the Iron Man mask, at Thor, Steve, Natasha, Clint, War Machine and the damn Hulkbuster armour, who the hell was in that, and a woman dressed in what he had recently come to know as Wakandan armour, and - and what was either some kind of raccoon-based creature with a machine gun or Tony was having some severe hallucinations.

"Uh." It wasn't his finest moment, but for once in his life Tony really didn't have a clue what to say.

"Stark." Thor was the first to step forwards. His greeting was unusually sombre, but these were pretty dark times; he reached out a hand, and Tony extended his own automatically to shake it, feeling the god's strength even through the armour. "It is good to see you."

"Yeah, you too, Point Break," Tony said, still flummoxed. "It's been a while."

"They have been dark years indeed," Thor said, and Tony got the feeling he meant more than the recent disaster.

Before he could decide if it was tactless to ask, the small raccoon creature was the next to leave the group, giving Tony a brief, evaluating glance before making for the stairs, and god, even whatever the hell that thing was looked achingly sad. The fur around its eyes looked wet.

"That's Rocket," Thor said, grimly. "He's one of the Guardians."

"Oh." That explained the misery. Tony's gut twisted at the reminder of his failure.

The Hulkbuster armour opened, and _Bruce_ of all people stepped out.

"Well, that's just ironic," Tony said weakly. Bruce gave him a half-hearted smile, and came over to grip his shoulder.

The War Machine armour moved forward next, and Tony was just about ready to cry when Rhodey got out. He embraced his old friend, heedless of their audience.

"It's good to see you, man," Rhodey said quietly.

"You're late," Tony said, because he couldn't say _thank God you're here_ and _oh God Rhodey I failed I failed so bad_ and _I can't fix this_ , not when if he started he knew he might not stop.

"Yeah, well, I'm here now. Not letting you get all the credit for taking this guy down."

Tony snorted. There was nothing like a taunt from Rhodey for making him feel like even the craziest plan was doable - not that they technically had a plan yet.

He felt worlds better for having Rhodey and Bruce with him, and Thor too, but they weren't the only ones here. Tony broke apart from Rhodey to face the others, and Rhodey gestured to the only one of them Tony didn't recognise.

"This is Okoye," Rhodey said. "She's one of the Dora Milaje, from Wakanda. We - we lost T'Challa too."

Okoye nodded a greeting, and Tony did the same; these were no circumstances for a warm greeting, and any words of condolence would be hollow when they were all reeling from the same grief. She passed him by, following Rocket up into the ship.

And that left the last three - though, truth be told, most of his focus was on Steve.

He looked different, more bearded and older even if had only been two years, but beyond that he was just the same as ever. He stepped forward and for a second Tony could be back on the helicarrier, about to get a lecture from the wartime hero himself, trusty Captain America. He felt his defences rise, and as Steve got closer it wasn't the helicarrier at all, it was a bunker in Siberia, it was Steve raising his shield, bringing it down on the suit, over and over, cracking the arc reactor; it was that moment when Tony had been sure that Steve was going to kill him, and realising he still wasn't prepared to use the full scope of the suit's firepower to save his own life.

"You got my message," Tony said, and it wasn't a question. He wasn't sure how they'd got onto the ship, even with the Bifrost, but he knew why they were here. He had meant every word he'd said, but it was harder now with Steve in front of him, not knowing how the message had been received.

Steve nodded. "Yes. Tony - I'm sorry too. I'm so sorry. He's my friend, but you were right - so were you. I had to save him, but I never meant that to be the cost. I'm sorry."

It was Tony's instinct to wave the words aside, to shy away from things when they got this hard, to pretend he didn't have feelings that anyone else could touch. But they needed their heads in the game, they needed the air to be clear so that they could face what was coming with their full strength.

He'd already told Steve he regretted the civil war, and now he knew Steve did too. It didn't change what had happened, it would never get them back to what they had been. The old Avengers weren't a team any more. But they weren't here to be Earth's heroes - they were here as a last ditch effort for the whole damn universe, and that meant making themselves into something new, not trying to recover what had been before.

Tony let the suit retract, and got a great glimpse of Steve's eyes widening, awed, at the sight. He'd missed that, Steve's enthusiasm for the better aspects of the future.

Standing there in only his sports clothes, unshielded in a way he hadn't been with Steve since, what was it, that boardroom where they'd debated the Accords, Tony extended his hand. The gesture hung in the air between them for only a second before Steve seized it, held it firmly. For all that things could never be as they were between them, there was something in Steve's eyes that was a bit of a balm to the two year old fissure in Tony's soul - relief and gratitude so profound that it almost hurt to see. Things had gone too badly wrong to fix, but Steve had cared, somewhere along the way. It helped more than Tony might have thought, to know that.

When they parted, Tony looked at the two agents of what had been SHIELD warily - Clint more than Natasha, though he wasn't sure where he stood with either.

"Stark," Clint said, and Tony almost flinched, but his voice had softened from the way he'd spoken in the Raft. "I can't say you're my best friend, but I'm not an idiot. I know the Council wouldn't have just agreed to the house arrest deal. You helped." It wasn't a question. "I'm grateful for that. But now two of my kids - two of my kids just _vanished_ ," he said, and there was raw pain in him, too, that he never normally showed. "So we're gonna kill Thanos, undo this shitshow, and then I'm going home and you're all going to let me actually bloody retire."

"Hey, Tony," Natasha said, stepping forward and touching his arm gently. "Still not doing anything by halves, huh?"

"You know me, Natalie," he said, with a spark of the old banter. "It's good to see you."

"So what's the play?" she said, as if this were any other battle. "Where are we headed?"

Tony nodded, focusing back on the mission. "Nebula, upstairs, flying this thing - she's Thanos' daughter. Don't ask. She thinks he's off on some retirement kick, reckons she knows where he's gone. Some quiet planet, bit of an oasis, apparently. Best I can think of is we go in and get the gauntlet, and use the time stone. It's possible to get the gauntlet off him - we nearly had it on Titan. Kind of don't have much of a plan of how."

"That's where we come in," Steve said. "Thor's axe can hurt him, it should be able to kill him."

"Aye," Thor said, tapping the strange wooden handle of the axe. "It wounded him, badly, on Earth; I thought mortally. But he lived, he said I should have struck him in the head. I don't know if that's true, but there's one way to find out."

"And the gauntlet was damaged," Steve added. "After Thor tried to kill him, it looked sort of... burned. That might make it easier to take."

"Okay," Tony said, feeling new life surge through him. "Thanos killing axe and a damaged gauntlet. I'm liking our chances better now. So, Rogers, how do we do this?" It was easier than he'd expected, looking to Steve for a plan again. They had disagreed on so much outside of battle, but within it, he trusted Steve's judgement.

"We hit him with everything we've got," Steve said firmly. "When he left Earth, he was alone, so he might still be, but keep an eye out for his allies. Tony, Rhodes, Bruce - suit up and be the heavy hitters. Tony and Rhodes go in from above, Bruce from the ground. Concentrate your fire on his arm - the first priority is getting the gauntlet. Thor, you've got the best shot of killing him. The rest of us will distract him, try and clear the path; you take the bastard's head off if you can, or his arm to get the gauntlet."

"And what then?" Clint said, fingers already tapping on his bow. "I've felt the power of an infinity stone before, and I wasn't even the one holding it. How the hell do we use the time stone, even if we can get it?"

That was the question that had been bothering Tony. Strange could clearly wield it, at least within whatever that amulet had been. But he had a whole load of mystical powers that no one else there knew about - though that reminded Tony of something.

"Bruce, that other guy in New York," he began, but Bruce was already shaking his head and looking grim.

"We went there, Tony," he said. "There was no sign of Wong. He must be one of the fifty percent."

It was another blow they couldn't afford, because now Tony had no damn clue what they were going to do with the stone. "Alright," he said. "We'll work that out when we get to it. If we can get the gauntlet and kill Thanos, there'll be time to figure out what to do next."

The ship's comms system came to life. "We're fifteen minutes out," Nebula said. "If you're hungry, there are supplies upstairs. Other than that, get ready."

Thor nodded decisively. "I'll find some sustenance," he said, and headed further into the ship; the others trailed after him.

"Oh, hey, Cap," Tony said, before his nerve could fail him. "That from FRIDAY?"

He nodded towards a large open box still sitting on the Bifrost symbol.

"Yeah, it is."

Rhodey lingered in the doorway, clearly uncertain about leaving the two of them alone, and Tony loved him for it. He was lucky he'd met Rhodey, lucky the guy liked him enough to stay through all his crap, lucky that he cared enough to worry, even now, about if it was alright to leave them alone together. Tony caught his eye and nodded, feeling steady comfort in the way Rhodey waited for this signal before he left.

"Should be something for you in there," Tony said, going over to the box.

He pushed through the packing materials, pulling out several bits of kit he'd asked FRIDAY for, including comms units for the team that he'd do some quick reworking on to get them linked up by the ship's system. It didn't take long to find what he was looking for, under a foldaway Iron Man suit.

He straightened, and held out the shield.

Steve stepped back. "Tony..."

"I fixed it up," Tony said. "Just needed a bit of a refresh, you know. I figured you might need it, didn't know you'd have something new, is that Wakandan, they really know what they're-"

"Tony. That shield, it's not... I'm not Captain America any more. Howard-"

"Dad made it, but it's yours. Always has been. Captain America or not, that shield belongs to you."

Steve still hesitated, and Tony sighed.

"Take the damn thing, Steve, it's heavy."

Steve stepped forward, a faint smile briefly smoothing away his frown, and took the shield.

Tony nodded. "Now we're ready."

* * *

When they reached the atmosphere of the planet Nebula was leading them to, they went in hot. There was no point in subtlety - with the power to reshape reality on Thanos' side, their best shot was to go hard and fast. Nebula took them in over a vast green landmass, and started firing the second she judged they were far enough within the atmosphere to be in range. It was, she'd told them as they came in, a planet where humans would be able to breathe without protection - the atmosphere was similar to Titan, which had always had a similar make up to Earth, though it was like Titan before whatever disaster had befallen that planet. All the same, there was no sign of life until their violent arrival, though whether it had never been inhabited or Thanos had eliminated the population, no one would perhaps now ever know.

They landed in a blaze of fire, in the middle of what had been a pleasantly wooded valley. Nebula touched the ship down and lowered the exit ramp, and they all emerged with weapons at the ready, looking towards the spot where, according to Nebula, Thanos had once planned to go once his work was done, to live with his stolen 'children'.

God, this guy was a psychopath.

And, despite the impressive bombardment, he was not a dead psychopath.

Thanos emerged from the cloud of smoke, gauntlet raised. Tony, Rhodey, Bruce and Okoye all fired as one, Tony shooting off several rockets at the same time as repulsor blasts, but Thanos shook them all off like they were no more than a tickle. Tony took into the air, quickly followed by Rhodey, and gave covering fire as Natasha, Steve and Thor ran closer. Rocket fired with a yell of rage, but the bullets turned to bubbles the instant before they hit Thanos' skin. Clint shot an arrow that was on target to hit Thanos' eye, but it was stripped away in the air until nothing but a shower of fine dust dispersed around Thanos' face. Thanos clenched the gauntlet and a weapon built itself from nothing in his free hand, a blade that fired bursts of some kind of energy when he fired it towards Clint, who leapt to the side even as Tony sent cuffs out from the suit to try and catch Thanos' arms, but he shattered them apart.

But that was when Tony saw it. The gauntlet trembled, and slipped on Thanos' hand; it did look badly damaged, and there was a slight strain in his arm that had not been there before. One of the stones, an orangey coloured one, glowed bright and fierce. Thanos' face contorted, even while he raised his other arm to block Steve as he leapt at Thanos with the shield lifted.

"Cap was right," Tony said into the comms, activating the repulsors again and firing a continuous burst into Thanos' face that distracted him before he could follow through on his next strike. "The gauntlet's compromised."

"Copy that," Natasha said, dropping to the ground to dodge Thanos' gauntleted strike, seamlessly rising to her feet on his other side and stabbing one blade into the flesh of his thigh.

Thanos twisted round, and seized Natasha by one arm before she could dodge away, but he was forced to let her go to block Okoye's spear thrust, using its momentum to twist her away. In the next moment he was deflecting Thor's strike with the axe, bringing the gauntlet around to meet it mid-swing. The impact sent a shock wave around them, a burst of light and sensation, and Tony stared. Whatever that axe was made of, he wanted some.

They fought beautifully together, like they were made to be a team. When one got close, the others were there to cover them; none of their fights before had been like this, the full fire power of the whole team insufficient to bring down just one enemy, but they fought like this was what they'd always done anyway. They were all exhausted, but they kept going; the stakes were too damn high for anything else.

But despite how heavily they outnumbered him, Thanos was stronger than any of them, and he had the stones. He seemed reluctant to use them, which was interesting - he used the reality stone to alter any attacks that stood a real chance against him, but he seemed unable to affect Thor's axe, and he wasn't using the stones any more than he had to. Each use made him wince as though he was in pain, and sometimes he seemed to flinch away like he was reacting to things Tony couldn't see or hear.

"It's the soul stone," Nebula said, when Tony made this observation over the comms. "Gamora told me there would be a price, though she didn't know what. The stones could destroy even him, if he's not careful."

It took long enough to make any headway that Tony had begun to question whether Thanos had already trapped them in some kind of time loop, and then a well-placed blow from Cap's shield loosened the gauntlet. Thanos growled, turning round and catching Steve with a terrible blow that sent him to the ground. In the same swing he swept Natasha up, sending her careening off and into the trunk of one of the few trees still standing near them. He caught an arrow from Clint and flung it back towards its owner, and it exploded so close to Clint that he was flung back and off his feet. Nebula flung herself at Thanos, blade raised, and Thanos reached out to intercept her - and in that distraction, Rocket soared forward on his flying boots and fired viciously at the space where the gauntlet ended on Thanos' arm, where a gap was opening up. It wasn't enough, not yet.

But Bruce, still in the armour, had noticed Natasha fall and lie still, and it turned out there was something that the Hulk was afraid of more than he was afraid of facing Thanos again.

The armour split open just in time. Bruce was already transforming as he fell out, and though it was a man that began to run it was the Hulk that crashed into Thanos, roaring his fury, and slammed him into the ground.

The gauntlet flew off Thanos' hand.

It soared several metres away and crashed onto the ground, far too innocuous for all the danger it held. And not nearly far enough away from Thanos.

And the titan was not powerless without it. He dealt Hulk a blow fierce enough to daze him, threw him at Steve even as the supersoldier came forward, fired up at Rhodey and managed to take out one of the boot repulsors, sending Rhodey crashing back into the ground and Tony was getting really pissed off about people doing that. Thanos turned his attention to Okoye and Rocket and Tony only had a split second to think, because if Thanos cleared them all out of the way then he would get the gauntlet back, and if he just decided to risk the stones and kill them all he could do it in an instant, or he could just disappear to another planet and they'd lose their chance for good.

Whereas Tony was metres above the gauntlet, and his path was, in this second, clear.

A strange calm washed over him.

This was going to kill him. Tony knew it, had known all along that this fight would probably claim his life. He wasn't strong enough to bear the stones alone, even with the protection of the gauntlet. But he was the only one with the chance, right now, and maybe he could hold it for just long enough.

It was worth the cost. That knowledge was its own strength, thrumming in his blood. He was aware of every movement of his body, every sensation against his skin, every beat of his heart - it would all be gone soon. But that was alright. He was, if he could pull this off, trading it for so much more.

All this passed through his mind as he soared towards the ground, landing in a spray of dirt. He didn't let himself stop to think, to see how close the others were, even to see where Thanos was. They had one chance, and even a second could see it lost.

"Tony!" Cap had seen him, as he struggled to raise himself off the ground. His voice was desperate, fearful. Whether Cap was going to urge him on or try to stop him, Tony didn't know, and he couldn't give the time to find out.

"Sorry, Steve," he said, as his feet hit the ground, and he seized the gauntlet.

* * *

He opened his eyes, and saw time.

Everything. Everything that had happened and everything that could, in every universe. All the possibilities from every decision everyone made every day, spiralling off into infinity. He could see it all, and he could shape it. The stones whispered to him of potential, of remaking the world. Every world. So much that could be better, so much he could do to protect. A suit of armour around the world - it was laughable. He could make sure there were never any threats again at all.

He could do it. He had all six stones, he could direct it all.

He revelled in it, in the feeling of absolute power, in his sudden enormity. He could do anything.

But that wasn't right. That wasn't why he'd come.

So what, though? He could do anything. Think of your wildest dream and make it so - no, more than that, because your dreams were so limited before. He could create and destroy, remove imperfection like it had never existed. He could create paradise, and beings who would live in it and be at peace.

The whispers were alluring. He was power, time, all of it; he was beyond mortal reckoning.

 _There was an idea..._

But he was so infinitely less and immeasurably more than that.

 _... see if they could become something more..._

He wasn't here to remake the world.

 _... to fight the battles we never could._

He was here to save it.

He wasn't some nameless, formless power from the birth of the universe. He was Tony Stark, and he was an Avenger. But this time, in avenging what they'd lost, he could bring them all back.

He had found himself again, amidst the enormity of the power he was holding, but with that awareness came fear, deep and all-pervading. He could feel how fragile his hold on himself was - how fragile was the command that the gauntlet held over the stones, how it was trying to pull together forces that were never meant to be bound in stones, let alone held so close together in a damaged vessel. And he was a grain of sand in a hurricane, he could never hope to control this - how could he even try to direct it?

Tony knew, rationally, that he must still be standing in the same place, on the burning field, in the middle of a war. But he couldn't see any of it, wasn't sure he was exactly sensing anything; it wasn't with human vision that he could see the galaxies whirling around him, the blinding brilliance of the colours the stones streaked across his thoughts. They were burning - and so was he, blazing brighter than a star.

And still they whispered. Why fight? Why not take the ultimate victory they were handing him, seize total control, take all of space and time and the soul of every living creature under his own dominion?

"TONY!"

The cry ripped through whatever trance he was in, to whatever plane of existence the stones were on.

He could take it all. It was right there, in his hand.

But he was Tony Stark, and he knew himself. Knew his strength and his limits. He knew he didn't have the right or the knowledge for that kind of power or control. No one did. He was only here to undo evil, not perpetrate more himself.

He reached out with his mind, and let his thoughts touch the time stone.

And he felt the moment it began to tear him apart.

* * *

Steve felt the change the moment Tony picked up the gauntlet. They all did. It was like a shock wave, passing across the field of battle. The distraction saved Rocket's life, as Thanos raised one vast fist for a blow that never came. He twisted round, snarling, and Steve took the opportunity to get to his feet, extending a hand towards Natasha as she shook off her daze. She took it, swinging herself up off the ground. They were all frozen, for a moment, those who were still aware enough to look staring towards Tony, who had lifted the gauntlet and was now standing, perfectly still, in the centre of a growing storm.

Hulk, shaking off his hurt, roared again and charged Thanos, who swung a fist with a snarl, the impact lifting Hulk off his feet and sending him flying back to crash into the ground with a thud that made the ground shudder and tore up a streak of soil. Thanos stepped back, regrouping, and Steve had a moment to take it in.

Tony was surrounded by light. It was brilliant, dazzling - but it felt, to Steve, somehow malevolent. There was darkness in it, like streaks of night twisting around Tony. He was still wearing the suit, but even as Steve watched it began to retract, drawing back over his skin until he stood there, dangerously human, holding the gauntlet in his bare hands. Steve stared, aghast, seeing Tony so vulnerable in the middle of a war, what was he thinking? But his eyes - Steve swallowed hard. Tony's eyes looked glazed over, his face vacant, and Steve wondered if he had any idea what he was doing.

And then he slipped the massive gauntlet onto his hand.

He should barely have been able to hold the weight of it, surely, but now he was wearing it and hardly even seemed aware. He looked like he was in a trance; he wasn't looking at any of them, even Thanos. It was like he no longer knew they were there - or rather, perhaps, like he wasn't there himself, any more.

And then his head rolled back, his face contorted, and his mouth opened in a silent scream. Steve recoiled as though physically struck, because Tony looked like he was in unbearable pain. So much that it made his own gut churn, and the need to be there, to help, was overwhelming, and Thanos wasn't looking at him.

He caught Thor's eye, and the god gave a miniscule nod, hefted his axe, and charged from the left. Rhodes, catching on fast, shot up on shaky repulsors and fired from overhead, and Steve sprinted by on the right, bypassing Thanos altogether and making for Tony.

Thanos reacted too fast. He dodged the axe and caught Thor a blow on the side of the head that sent him sprawling, while firing up at Rhodes again and catching the arc reactor, sending the suit plummeting down again. Steve kept running, shield raised, and he got so damn close - but when he reached the edge of the light, he hit as though he'd run full tilt into a wall, and rebounded backwards.

What the hell? That hadn't happened when Thanos wielded the gauntlet-

But before he could even wonder, huge fingers closed around his throat.

Steve choked, hands scrabbling at the iron grip around his neck, as Thanos lifted him into the air. He heard Thor yell in fury, heard Hulk's roar and Natasha curse. But Thanos fired again, a volley of energy that sent earth spraying up around them in explosions. He heard awful, tearing sounds behind him as the ground trembled again, but he couldn't see a thing as Thanos lifted him up, kept his head pointing towards Tony.

"I told him I hoped you all remembered him," Thanos said, his voice as calm and cold as ever. "Watch him fail, and remember _that_. He cannot control it, and he will destroy himself trying. He does not have the strength."

Lights were beginning to dance in front of Steve's eyes. The serum was trying to heal him, but there was only so much it could do when he was still being injured; the pain was intense and his lungs screamed for air.

But still he watched, even as he put all his strength into prising Thanos' fingers free. He wanted to protest, to argue that Tony was Earth's greatest defender; if anyone could do it then he could. But what if it just wasn't possible? To control all the stones, to bend them to his will, to so delicately change the past without doing any more damage, to resist the lure of what so much power could allow - and to do it all without being torn apart? It had never been the plan for one of them to try alone, but Steve couldn't blame him for it. He'd done what needed doing, and there was no greater courage than that.

But it looked like he was coming apart. Steve thought of what Rocket had told them on the journey, about the Guardians' attempt to bear the power stone together, and it looked eerily similar - he could see what looked like cracks in Tony's skin through which brilliantly bright light was starting to shine in all the colours of the stones, like Tony was now only a vessel for something unearthly. Steve believed in him with everything he had but resisting the lure of power might not be enough, if the struggle was going to rip him in two.

Tony needed help, and Steve was failing him again.

Darkness was beginning to creep in at the edges of Steve's vision when Thanos suddenly lurched forward, and his grip released. Steve crashed into the ground, gasping and struggling to get breath into his lungs through his bruised throat, even as it started to heal. He felt stunned, shaky, but he rolled to the side, getting clear of Thanos, who had staggered forward. As he turned his back to Steve, reaching to claw behind him, Thanos revealed the great silver axe embedded in his shoulder.

Thor. Steve grinned savagely, forcing himself to his feet. Thor landed beside him, steadying him, and drawing him back.

Rhodey and Nebula were coming in from one side; Natasha and Hulk rushed in from the other to capitalise on Thanos' wound while Clint, struggling to his feet, joined in with Rocket to provide covering fire.

"TONY!" Steve yelled, desperate to let him know he was coming.

Catching his breath, Steve raised his shield - and then another shockwave ripped through the field, and a pulse of green light span out.

The time stone. Tony had got this far - hope surged in Steve's chest, warm and brilliant, the first real belief in victory he'd had since Bucky had dissolved in front of him. They could do this. But they'd do it together.

"We need everyone there, now," he said, low and urgent, trusting to Tony's genius that the ear pieces would still be working after everything. "As soon as you can, get to Tony. We'll hold the stone together."

He met Thor's eyes, and saw exactly what he felt - the most unshakeable determination, in spite of everything they'd lost.

"I'll buy you time, and join you," Thor said, and called down a bolt of lightning that crashed into Thanos.

Steve ran. He sprinted back to Tony; explosions went off in his path, no doubt thanks to Thanos' weapon, but he deflected them with the shield and kept running.

He paused, this time, at the edge of the light. It was growing wilder, beginning to drag up earth in a hurricane around Tony, the colours spiralling faster so that it was hard to see him. Steve pressed more carefully this time, and called out.

"Tony, it's me! Tony, let me through, we can do it together!"

Maybe it was because Tony had taken control, or he could hear Steve - he didn't know, but this time he was only slowed down, like he was trying to push through water or against an insane wind, but he made it past the outermost swirls of light. He heard Thanos bellow something behind him, and the sound of explosions and the feel of the earth trembling, but he kept going.

Tony looked like he was shattering apart. His eyes were open now and they looked like galaxies, full of swirling blue and purple and miniscule stars. The cracks in his skin were wider, more light showing through, and Steve felt his stomach drop sickeningly. Tony had to be dying. He didn't look human any more, he looked like he was an explosion in slow motion. He was frozen in a posture of pain, but there was a familiar, fierce frown on his face. The gauntleted arm was in front of him, held out rigidly from his body, and the gauntlet looked like it was on the verge of breaking too.

"I'm here, Tony," he yelled, not even sure if the noise was real or in his head any more. He couldn't see anything outside the cloud of light now. "Hold on."

Maybe in that moment he should have thought about everyone, about that whole universe of grief. But really, in that instant, he thought about Bucky, and Sam, and Tony sacrificing himself for the world. He didn't hesitate, but grabbed hold of Tony's free hand.

* * *

Tony felt some part of him snap back together. It was enough to be aware of his body, to realise what had changed - that he wasn't alone any more.

That awareness brought with it a very immediate downside - sensation. Tony knew pain, had survived torture and unprecedented surgery, had lived years with metal in his chest reducing his lung capacity, had been injured in more fights than he cared to count. This was something else. This was being torn apart from inside, this was something inside him clawing away at his body, his soul. He couldn't see, couldn't think, couldn't survive this, how could he possibly last long enough to use the stone?

But someone else was there, next to him, creating a chain that spread the power of the stones. That had maybe been the only reason he was thinking at all now, that he'd not been ripped into atoms by the time stone. The terrible focus of the stones was spread between them, to bear together.

Steve. Tony would have known even if he didn't feel it down to his bones. Of course it would be Steve.

Together, he thought, or said - he wasn't sure any more, couldn't tell the difference. At last, they'd do it together.

He reached out again, in his mind, selecting the only one of the stones he dared even try to wield. This time he felt Steve reach with him, their desperation united in a sole purpose. Tony knew himself, still, but on another level it was like they'd merged - he knew, instinctively, that the warmth on the edge of his senses was Steve's soul beside his.

None of that, of course, told him how the time stone worked. He touched the edge of its power and felt the life of the universe span out before him, forward and back, saw the infinite multiverse. The other stones pushed in, offering up what they could do in conjunction with time - he could go anywhere, any time; he could reshape anything, go back to the very birth of everything and tweak, just to see what happened. He could undo the evolution of life or remake it to his own design, make it safe, or he could go back to every disaster and save everyone, throughout time, and never stop -

And Steve was feeling it too, some of those thoughts were his, but Tony felt the moment he pulled back. They had a job to do. They were there to protect the world they had, not risk eliminating every life on it by changing anything else when they couldn't imagine the consequences.

But even with the right intentions it was too much to control, too immense for the two of them, and Tony could feel Steve begin to come apart as well, beside him.

And then there was a third link in the chain, and the hurricane around them grew larger and wilder as Rhodey grabbed Steve's hand. The burden spread again - and then once more, and he sensed Nebula join the line. Then Rocket and Natasha, Clint and Okoye - and with every one of them Tony felt his own grasp on reality strengthen, the agony ease just a little as its pain was spread between them.

But it still wasn't enough. Thor and Hulk were still out there; whether it was vision or deeper senses given to him by the stones, Tony could still see them fighting Thanos, with Thor having reclaimed the axe and trying to get in that killer blow. They needed to join the line, but if they stopped distracting Thanos then he might come into contact instead, and Tony had no idea what would happen then, if his will came against the shared intention of the Avengers, because they were all united now and they still weren't strong enough.

And Tony wasn't sure how long they could hold on.

And that was when a streak of _something_ crashed down from the sky, colliding straight with Thanos and materialising into a human form, which struck blow upon blow on Thanos, faster than Tony could see. Blasts of gold energy crashed into him, forcing him back, and the newcomer yelled out to Thor and Hulk.

"Go! I'll hold him off!"

Thor didn't waste time asking who she was. He grabbed Hulk's arm and pulled him away from the fight, forcing their way into the barrier made by the stones and seizing hold of Okoye's hand.

It was enough. The moment the balance was struck, Tony clenched his fist and called on the power of the time stone. He could still sense the entirety of time but he could see, now, the parts that he wanted to touch. He visualised it in his mind, the green stone and the spinning circles Strange had wielded, and he manipulated it with a feather-light touch.

The fight on this planet. Back. Their desperate rush here. Back.

Peter. Quill, Mantis, Drax. T'Challa, Sam, Bucky, Wanda, Groot. The whole damn half universe. The snap of Thanos' fingers.

Back. Back. Back.

Tony rewound time, the strength and thoughts of the Avengers guiding him, and he could feel it working. Hope, brilliant, dazzling, filled him - they could do this. It was working.

He was sure it was working.

Vision, the stone being ripped out of him. Back.

He had to go so carefully. Even now that he they were back past the snap, it would be so easy to do something else - to go too far, to rock forward again, to jump into another universe entirely. They needed to stop but they were still going back, past the beginning of the invasion of Wakanda, and he hadn't even been there but he could still see it. He was still connected to the other Avengers, and he could feel Nebula screaming, and they jumped again-

Thanos flinging Gamora off a cliff.

Back.

They were gathering speed. Tony hadn't meant to go this far back, though he could hardly begrudge another life saved, but they were still going, he could see it all whipping past him, the decision to try and save Vision, Tony and Peter saving Strange, Peter getting back on the ship after Tony told him to leave, the Guardians trying to kill Thanos on Knowhere, Steve and Natasha saving Vision and Wanda in Edinburgh, Thor meeting the Guardians, the assault on New York and he didn't know how to make this stop, he had no idea, and he could feel the speed pick up and what if they ended up back at the beginning of time-

But it was Thor's grief, he realised, and the god wasn't trying to do this, he was trying to stop, to make them halt, but his grief was an endless well that was dragging them on and this was the last point, Tony could feel it, this was their last chance to get out before something much worse happened.

And he grabbed hold of time and space and reality, all at once, and it was a reckless move but they might be about to destroy the whole damn universe themselves, otherwise, and he seized and _pulled_ and carried all of them with him, and at the last moment he felt Thanos make a mighty heave and drag himself and the stranger along with them.

So they were all in the eye of the storm when they appeared on the ship full of Asgardian refugees, in the instant that Thanos and his gang of creeps stepped on board.

The versions of Thor, Hulk and Thanos who had been there before disappeared, snapped out of existence as they were replaced by the ones who had been in the eye of the storm. Tony lowered his arm and the gauntlet fell, crashing to the ground with a terrible, weighty clang, and as it hit it split apart. All six infinity stones sprang out from the splintered metal, and Tony collapsed to the ground, his strength utterly spent.

* * *

Tony's hand ripped from Steve's as he fell, and Steve landed on his knees beside him, instinctively reaching out to support Tony. All the Avengers were reeling, looking around in disorientated shock, minds snapped almost out of sanity by the weight and pain they had endured, so suddenly ripped away. But Tony had borne it for longest, and it was he who had led the use of the stones.

The stones. They were scattered on the floor right in front of them. Thanos was so close - but Steve didn't dare try to touch them.

And Thanos, at any rate, was distracted. The people around them, who could only be Asgardians, scattered back as the woman who had appeared at that last moment struck at Thanos, blow after blow that dazed him, too fast to see and combined with bolts of energy; none of Thanos' strikes in return seemed to faze her. Thanos' allies rushed forward, with weapons both physical and magical raised, but Hulk, who had recovered faster than the others, went to intercept, as did a dark haired female Asgardian - and Loki. Steve stared, would have been gobsmacked except for what he'd seen when they rewound time, the way that Loki had fought with Thor to save the Asgardians, and had tried to kill Thanos even when he might have saved his own life.

The newcomer pinned Thanos down, pouring a blaze of energy into him that made him yell in pain, and she caught Thor's eye.

The god didn't hesitate. He ran forward, axe raised high in both hands, and brought it crashing down on Thanos' neck.

He was a titan, strong beyond reckoning, but without the infinity stones he was only mortal. The mystical axe cut through flesh and bone, severing Thanos' head and embedding itself deep into the floor of the spaceship.

Steve, breathless and dazed, could only stare.

Thanos was dead.

On the other side of the chamber, there was a squelching sound and a snap, and Thanos' allies keeled over, as dead as their leader.

Breathless silence reigned.

Until it was broken by Loki.

"Brother, what in the nine realms did you _do_?"

And Thor laughed. It was a brilliant, blazing sound, the most joyful thing Steve thought he might ever have heard. And he understood - God, he understood. It had worked. All these people around them had been dead, killed by Thanos, and now they were back. They'd rewound days of time, they'd brought people back to life - even Loki, and that was kind of complicated, but Steve couldn't bring himself to care.

He suddenly wanted nothing more than to be back on Earth, to see the proof, to know beyond doubt that it had worked.

"Did we do it?" Tony mumbled, stirring, and Steve reached for him, supporting him, helping him up to look around. "Oh, hey, looks like we did it. Good job, team."

And Steve laughed too, lighter than air, clapping Tony on the back gently. "Yeah, Tony. We did it."

They'd saved everyone.

* * *

There was still the matter of Thanos' army of what had seemed in Wakanda to be single-minded monsters, but a man - god - that Thor had introduced as Heimdall had hefted the biggest sword Tony had ever seen and assured them that he could lead a group to sort them out without trouble, now that Thanos was gone. Far be it for Tony to argue with the guy, who could apparently see across worlds - Tony had had enough of that kind of power, thanks. The Asgardian woman was apparently a Valkyrie, which was another legend come to life, and she just gave them all a wary look, gave Thor a biting warning to stay out of trouble, and followed Heimdall. Loki, perhaps sensing a certain amount of animosity from the original Avengers, had escaped his brother's repeated bear hugs to join the other two, though there was something fiercely fond between the two brothers now that had definitely been missing when they were trying to kill each other in New York.

Families, man.

A large individual who appeared to be made of rocks was leading some Asgardians in a gentle effort to clear up the bodies, while the other newcomer introduced herself to the Avengers.

"Carol Danvers," she said, shaking hands with them all now that her own were no longer sparking with energy. "Otherwise known as Captain Marvel. Sorry for the delay. I got a call from Nick Fury, but I was kind of a long way away. It took me a while to get here."

"How far away?" Steve asked, because the man had a gift for identifying a good story.

Carol just smiled. "Further than even you've been, Captain."

None of them were sure what to do with the stones, so Thor set up a guard around them; they all agreed to wait until they got back to Earth and could consult with Strange, though Tony privately hoped there was some way to destroy the damn things. If the continued existence of the universe wasn't dependent on them, then as far as he was concerned they were better off without them.

Of more immediate concern to all of them was the friends they had, hopefully, saved.

"We've turned back the clock," Natasha said, gesturing around them. "They'll all be back wherever they were at this point in history, won't they?"

There was general agreement at this theory, but Tony grimaced. They'd relocated to what was apparently Thor's private room, though it was plenty big enough for all of them. Against his protests, Steve and Rhodey had helped him over to the bed, and he had to admit he was glad of it now; he felt unpleasantly weak, more drained than he wanted them to know, and he could still feel the old tug of his wounds. Kinda sucked that they'd rewound time so that the injuries ought never to have happened, but they still had. Infinity stones were weird things.

"I'm not so sure," he said, shaking his head. "I remember... I really felt each of them come back, in a way that I didn't with the rest of the universe. I was aware of them in the same way that I was aware of all of us, in the eye of the storm."

"So what does that mean?" Steve said, pausing in his pacing up and down the room. "Where are they?"

"I've got a theory," Tony said. "Is everyone up for a couple stops on the way back?"

* * *

They found Gamora on Vormir, at the bottom of the cliff Thanos had flung her off. Or, more accurately, they found her a third of the way up the cliff, climbing it like she thought Thanos would still be at the top for her to kill. Once safely on board, she reunited with Nebula, and Tony found himself genuinely glad to see his temporary and more than a little scary comrade so clearly joyful, when that seemed to be an emotion all too lacking in her life.

It was Titan that he was waiting for, and he pushed his way out of the ship the second they landed, the others' concern be damned. He didn't care if he literally keeled over with the effort, there was no way in hell he was waiting a second longer than he had to.

He saw Quill first, who flung his arms up as soon as he saw Tony. "You fucking asshole, did you take my ship? What the hell's going-"

But then he caught sight of everyone emerging behind Tony, and his voice cut off sharply. Tony, remembering that they'd probably left the Guardians' ship back on Thanos' retirement planet and being in no rush to admit that, glanced back, saw Gamora descending with a brilliant smile, and dodged around a gobsmacked Quill. He barely even processed the sight of Drax and Mantis, because _where the hell was Peter?_

"Oh, hey, Mr Stark. Sorry about kind of freaking out on you, I've never died before, it was kind of scary but I guess I'm alright again now, oh, hey, hi, Mr Stark..."

Peter trailed off as Tony grabbed him, drawing the kid into a fierce hug. God, he'd been such an unforgiveable fool, but he'd done this, he'd fixed his terrible mistake, they'd managed to bring him back.

"I'm sorry," he said, hoarse and desperate, and he knew he was crying and he just didn't care. "Peter, I'm so sorry. I should have protected you, I never should have brought you into this, I'm so sorry."

Peter reached out, tentative at first, but then he was hugging Tony back with just as much need. "It's okay, Mr Stark, I'm alright. I'm really glad you are too."

Tony gave a wet, weak laugh. "I think you can call me Tony now, kid."

He could feel Peter grinning against his shoulder. "Okay, Tony. I'll be more careful next time, I promise. No more following you into spaceships."

"Next time? Kid, there's not going to be a next time. I'm talking to May, trust me, you're grounded until the end of the century."

* * *

Their last stop, of course, was Earth.

They landed just outside of the barrier that protected Wakanda, once again standing strong because the invasion had never come. But they were picked up the moment they reached Earth's atmosphere, of course, and there was already a party waiting for them at an opening in the border.

T'Challa and Shuri. Vision, hand in hand with Wanda. Sam, whooping for joy as they left the ship. Groot, stretching himself taller as he looked for his friends.

And Bucky, his flesh arm folded in with his new metal one, hair swept back from his face, that grin that Steve knew so goddamned well practically splitting his face in two.

Steve was running before thought could catch up, and so was Bucky, and he could hear T'Challa calling out a warm greeting to Okoye, and he collided with Bucky not sure if he himself was laughing or crying but he'd never cared less about anything in his life.

He grabbed onto Bucky and held on like he'd never let go, for however long he lived. Bucky held him back, and Steve was finally home.

* * *

There was a lot still to be done. There were the Asgardians to find a new refuge for, there were the infinity stones to deal with. There was everything still a little fractured between the Avengers, even with what they'd accomplished together.

But that night, everyone was welcomed into Wakanda. They ate and drank together, old Avengers and new, Guardians and Wakandans and Asgardians, all united in the most desperate victory Steve had ever known, the most sorely needed and the most narrowly gained. But they had done it.

And he saw T'Challa embracing Shuri and speaking fondly with Okoye, Clint on the phone with his kids, Natasha going over to sit with Bruce, and the way his shy smile lit up as she took his hand. He saw Thor laughing with Loki, the easy way he moved among his people, a jubilant, strong leader delighting in conversation with every one of them. He saw Sam showing off his wings to anyone who'd watch, including an amused Captain Marvel and an old man nursing a strong drink who assured him he'd seen much better. He saw the Guardians all reunited, Rocket fondly scolding Groot for his focus on a video game, Drax telling an apparently hilarious story to Mantis, Gamora holding Nebula in a long embrace before going to Quill and dancing together for hours even when there wasn't any music. He saw Vision and Wanda join them, full of life and laughter.

And in amongst it all, he saw Tony, who'd started all of this. Saw him batting away Rhodey's concern about his injuries with a fond smile as he talked to Pepper on the phone, saw him explaining what he knew of Wakanda's tech to Peter Parker and asking Shuri eagerly about everything else. Steve even saw him stand in front of Bucky, and he was too far away to hear what they said, to do more than watch with bated breath, but he saw the moment when the two men shook hands and felt like his heart might just burst with something almost too joyful to bear.

Yes, there was more to be done. There always would be - that was the way of the world. There would be more to clean up and more fights to be had, in the future.

But today, they had won. Today, they had pulled back victory from the brink of despair.

And today, as Bucky rejoined him with an arm flung around Steve's shoulders and an easy smile on his face, Steve found that he didn't care about anything else.

 _They'd won._


	2. Coming Home

_(A/N: Thank you so much for the amazing response to the original story. I hope I was able to help with some of the wounds of Infinity War! I didn't intend to write any more on this, but a few more scenes have been nagging at me. These all take place in the aftermath of the original story, because there were some conversations that needed to happen. And I may still be a tiny bit bitter that we didn't get any reconciliation from Tony and Steve in the movie.)_

* * *

"I am Groot."

"No, I'm not mad at you. I'm glad you're okay."

"I am Groot."

"It was a brave thing to do, and you saved the pirate angel. I'm just saying, in the future, maybe don't go around cutting bits off your own body."

"I am Groot."

Rocket heaved a weary sigh. "Yeah, I know it looked badass, but that's really not the point."

"I am Groot."

"Watch it with the sass!" He stood up on his chair and plucked the video game out of Groot's hand. "I don't even know where you're getting these things from. Is this a Terran video game? Come on, Groot, not cool. And look, I'm an adult, that means I get to make my own choices, and I can't help it if those always end up looking badass. Until you're an adult, you listen to what I tell you."

Groot crossed his arms, looking disconsolately at his confiscated game. He looked set to try and sulk for the rest of the night and, frankly, Rocket was prepared to let him - he was glad enough to have his friend back that he could do whatever the hell he wanted. Not that Rocket was going to tell him that. He was deeply, profoundly, painfully relieved not to be on his own again, but he wasn't an idiot.

And then Groot clearly caught side of something across the room, because he perked up and nudged Rocket in the side. Rocket followed his line of sight.

"I am Groot?"

A grin stole across Rocket's face, which developed into a laugh that filled his whole body. Yeah, it was good to have his buddy back. "Hell yes. We need to sneak up on him though, he's got quick reflexes. You hold him down, I'll go for the arm."

* * *

"That was a stupid choice, telling him where the soul stone was." Nebula's voice was cool and controlled. "You should have let me die."

Gamora scowled. The two of them were standing at the edge of the room furthest from the door, leaning against a wall, while on the other side of the vast space a cheerful commotion began as more food was brought in. Peter was in the midst of it all - they'd only been on Earth an hour or so, but he seemed to have made friends with half of this new crowd and pissed the other half off, which was about standard for him. Gamora, glad as she was for how things had worked out - and she was, she was glad beyond reckoning, more than she'd ever felt before - preferred to stay back, work out the lay of the land first. They were among allies here, but they were all new and unusually powerful - she wanted to know their ways out if this all went wrong.

Plus, this was where Nebula seemed determined to hang out, so there she was too.

"He wasn't going to kill you," she said tightly, thinking back to that horrible moment, the realisation of what Thanos was putting Nebula through. "He was going to keep torturing you. Maybe forever."

"So what? It was my life against giving him untold power. It was foolish."

"Ugh!" Gamora pushed away from the wall, turning sharply to face Nebula. "Maybe it was, maybe it was a stupid thing to do!" she said, half yelling, not caring whose attention she drew. But she was not too angry to see the way Nebula flinched, like this was a confirmation she had been pushing for but not wanted to hear. "But you know what? I'd do it again. You're my sister. I let you down for so many years. I'm not just going to stand by while you're in pain, not again."

The look of hurt was gone. In its place, Nebula blinked at her, face momentarily blank. Then she seemed, if anything, confused. Surprised. It made Gamora's heart ache, because even she herself despite all the awful things she'd done had found a family, found people who would do anything to keep her from pain, and Nebula had never had that.

"Oh," Nebula said, unusually softly.

Gamora swallowed hard. "Yeah, oh." They stood in silence for a moment, then she couldn't bear it any longer - she stepped closer and drew Nebula in, lightly and so carefully, pulling her close with one hand around her shoulders and one cradling her head. It took several long moments, but Nebula reached out jerkily to hold her in return.

When they parted, Gamora went back to leaning on the wall so that she could let Nebula pretend there wasn't moisture in her eyes.

"So," she said, gesturing around the room, at the crowd that was still growing as more Asgardians and Wakandans joined, and brought the noise level up with them. "Thanos is dead and we're still here. What will you do now?"

"I don't know." Nebula's voice was still steady, even as she touched the corners of her eyes. "It was my purpose for so long, killing him. I don't know what else to do, who I am without that."

Something painful was thudding along with Gamora's heartbeat, something she tried not to name but she knew what it was by how much it hurt. _Hope_. "You could stick with us, you know," she said, hoping her voice stayed casual. "Make some money, help some people. Save the galaxy a couple more times. We're getting pretty good at it."

"You'd let me come with you? After everything?"

"Nebula, you're my sister. Of course."

"But," she said, hesitantly. "It's not just you. The others?"

"We're family," Gamora said simply. "That includes you. And it means that you're welcome with us, always."

* * *

Asgard was safe. It was as they had said - Asgard was not the place they had lost, it was the people they had saved. Their losses still weighed heavily on him - he could not help but think, every time he saw his people assembled before him, of those who weren't there, so many of them and even those he had thought would be beside him forever. The Lady Sif and the Warriors Three - his friends' jubilant voices still rang in his head, though they would never again be heard in any of the realms he could reach.

Yet the grief was much less than it had been, for against all that should be possible he had got so many of them back. He had lost everything, he had hit the bottom, but now he had recovered so much of what had been taken from him. Heimdall, Valkyrie. _Loki_. Loki, above all, even though it was not so long since Thor had been fighting against him. Even after they had found their own kind of peace he had thought to leave his brother on Sakaar, if that was Loki's choice. But after having genuinely believed that this death might have been final, Thor knew he couldn't suggest the same thing again.

Which was why, as he followed the last of his people into the hall where the mighty Wakandan king was making them welcome, he lingered in the doorway rather than going immediately to join the feasting. It wasn't long before a stealthy, almost silent presence joined him.

For a long moment they didn't speak, instead watching their people - _their_ people - find a place where they could rest for the first time since Hela breached the Bifrost. There was a part of Thor that thought he should be on edge, be prepared for anything, because even on Sakaar Loki had been willing to betray him. But he had also sacrificed his own life to try and kill Thanos, even after all of Asgard was lost, and that was either because it was the right thing to do or to try and save Thor - he wasn't sure which, and it didn't matter. And Thor was so very tired of being at odds with his brother.

It was Loki who broke the silence. "What will you do now?"

Thor finally shifted to set his axe down at the edge of the room. The weight was a comfort, a reminder of what he had achieved, but it was not his hammer. He did not look at Loki, almost convinced that would be enough to make him leave.

"I will stay with them. We need to start again, rebuild where we can find safety. Perhaps on Earth, perhaps another world. I will find a place for us." He crossed his arms, cleared his throat, feeling more awkward than he had done in years.

He was a god; what was he so afraid of?

Ah, but he knew. He was afraid to get the answer he knew Loki was most likely to give. But he still had to ask.

"You could stay, you know. Help me."

Loki shifted, let out a slow breath. "I'm not sure I have it in me, brother," he said quietly. "I long scorned Odin for his leadership, but I've been little better. It was my actions that led to Ragnarok. In sending our father away, I freed Hela."

Across the room, a child laughed, clear and bright, loud enough to be heard above the constant hum of conversation. Asgardians mingled with the people of Wakanda and with their other allies - the Avengers, the Guardians. It settled something in Thor's chest, eased an ache that had been growing there for days.

"It would have gladdened him to hear you call him that," Thor said. "And when you called yourself his son in front of Thanos. Odin would have left soon anyway, I think. He did not tell us about Hela soon enough to count, nor do I think he ever would have done. He did not prepare our people for her return, though he knew it would come. What happened is not your fault. Asgard was destined to perish in that way; we might only have delayed it a little. I do not blame you, brother."

He could feel Loki's gaze on him. "You did before."

"I know," he said, and that was another weight he carried. "I am sorry for it. But when I thought you dead - when you _were_ dead, and all our people with you, I could not bear it. We've both made mistakes. I want to go forward knowing that however many times we part, there's still a chance I'll see you again. I know we might be too different, that you might not want to stay. But wherever I am, wherever our people are - that's your home too, if you want it."

"I'm not..." It was Loki's hesitation that made Thor turn, at last. Whether he was right or wrong, Loki never floundered for words. Though Thor knew well enough that he could never trust appearances when it came to his brother, Loki did look uncertain. "I'm not sure I can stay here."

"Home isn't about staying in one place. It's about coming back."

What passed over Loki's face certainly looked like genuine emotion, and his gaze flicked back and forth across Thor's face like he was trying to catch a lie. "Yes," he said eventually, clearly finding none. "I suppose you're right."

Thor stared at him - one beat, then two. Loki narrowed his eyes.

"What?"

Without answering, Thor leaned forward and poked Loki sharply in the arm.

"Ouch! Don't be childish, Thor, I'm really here."

"Can you blame me for being uncertain? You admitted that I was right about something."

"Can I take it back? I take it back," Loki said quickly. "You're never right, you oaf. No, leave me alone, get off!"

Thor, beaming, merely tightened his grip around his brother's shoulders. "Come on. Whether you're staying or going, you can spare the time to eat with me first. We have won a great victory here, and it must be celebrated."

"When you say we, do you mean to include me, or are you talking about yourself and that ridiculously oversized axe?"

"Stormbreaker is the weapon that cut off the head of the mighty titan, brother, its name shall go down in the annals!"

"Sure, great, fantastic. Is this another one only you can lift? Because if you use it to trap me in my room again, I'm going to kill you."

* * *

It was an incredible group of people to be in the middle of, but Peter Quill found his attention drawn back to where Gamora and Nebula were standing about every five seconds. It was frustrating, when there was so much to do and so many people to see - and God, he had missed Earth food, you just couldn't get it like this anywhere else - but there was too much on his mind to settle into it. The moment he saw Gamora leave Nebula's side and catch his eye, he darted over.

There was so much to do - he wanted to kiss her, to tell her he loved her and how glad he was that she wasn't dead - but there was one thing he _needed_ to do first.

"I'm sorry," he said, breathless and a little on edge, and he grabbed her hand to draw her into a quiet corner, paranoid that Rocket would be eavesdropping anywhere else - or, worse, that Drax would show up practising his invisibility again.

"What for?" Gamora said, her smile falling away into a frown.

"I promised," he said, hating how desperate it sounded. "I promised I'd kill you. I promised on my _mom_. And I messed it up. I couldn't do it, I waited too long and he figured it out. If I'd just done it straight away-"

"It's alright, Peter."

"No, it's not, and you know why? Because I'm not even sure if I'm sorry for waiting too long, or for promising in the first place. It was the universe or you, and I chose the universe, but I even did that too late and I still wish I'd chosen you instead. Maybe it all worked out in the end but I'm not sure I could ever do that again. I thought you were dead. It hurt so bad I screwed up our chance to kill Thanos, before he got all the stones. If you asked me to do that again, my promise might not mean shit. I can't live in a world where you're dead again. I couldn't kill you and I couldn't save you."

"Oh, Peter," she said, and it made him ache, the way she looked so close to tears. "Don't. It's - I know. It was a terrible thing to ask. You tried, you didn't let me down. But you've got to know, I'd never ask, knowing how much it would hurt you, unless the stakes were so high that it was worth it. And you've got to trust me, you've got to let me make that call."

It sounded like it hurt her to say, but it was nothing to hearing it - Peter recoiled back.

"Would you do it, the other way round?" he demanded. "Would you trust me to make the call?" Even as he said it, saw the way her face fell even further, he started shaking his head, a sick feeling in his stomach. This, he couldn't stand to hear. "No, actually, don't answer that, I'm not sure I want to-"

"I don't know," she interrupted, and now the pain in her voice was clear - terrible and deep. "I think I'd make the promise too, if you asked, but I don't know if I'd do it. Thanos made me into a killer, the most dangerous woman in the galaxy according to him; I know I _could_ do it. But you're what's made the galaxy worth living in. I always know I could do it - but I don't know if I would, this time, even to save everything else."

Peter pulled her forward, closing his eyes and holding her close. "You know," he mumbled into her hair, "we've got a really messed up way of saying we love each other."

She laughed into his chest, and it made his whole soul soar. "Yeah, but it works."

* * *

The celebration lasted long enough that when he finally half sat, half fell into a chair at an unoccupied table, Steve had no idea what time it was. The tall windows now showed a starry night sky above the dimmed lights of the city, but it had been that way for hours. Still, the hall showed no signs of quietening down. Asgardians, he was learning, would regularly party for days at a time - Earth must have been a bit of a disappointment for Thor, all these years.

Some of the refugees had managed to keep packs of possessions with them, and from these several small, intricately crafted musical instruments had appeared. For hours now the hall had been filled ceaselessly with music - sometimes haunting and full of mourning for their lost planet, sometimes jubilant in celebration of the lives lived before those deaths, for battles won and their own survival. Each tune was linked by the beauty of its melody, and the emotions it could invoke. More recently several Wakandan musicians had joined them, and they'd begun to create something new together. Asgardian music might never have been heard on Earth before, but this was something that had never been heard in the whole universe, and it was breathtaking.

Joy was still a ceaseless strength inside him, but even Steve's serum-enhanced adrenaline was starting to drop. He closed his eyes, letting himself get lost in the conversations that were all so loud and overlapping that it was impossible to pick any particular words out, and with that breathtaking music always behind it. It was good to have a moment, between it all, to take stock of where he was. He'd been surrounded by friends all night, welcomed in the centre of this jubilation, and it was still overwhelming.

A sudden shout from a familiar voice jolted him out of his daze, and he was on his feet before he even thought about it, adrenaline spiking again. _Bucky_. What was going-

And then he saw Bucky sprinting through the hall, a slightly wild look in his eye, and he raced over when he caught sight of Steve.

"Why does the raccoon want my arm, Steve?" he demanded, looking a bit frenzied. "What the hell is going on?"

Steve just stared, his mind taking a moment to catch up to the realisation that they weren't under attack, and he just gaped at Bucky.

"Oh, you're no help," Bucky groaned. "This place was so lovely before they came. Sam, I need your help!"

And then he was gone again, and seconds later Rocket and Groot passed in hot pursuit.

Steve stared for several more seconds - and then he was laughing, hopeless and loud. Bucky shot him a crude hand gesture without looking back, even as he ran and grabbed Sam by the arm, and it just made Steve laugh harder than ever.

When he could breathe again, he dropped back into his chair and looked around the hall, wiping actual tears of mirth from his eyes. It had become a habit, tonight, to keep checking around for his friends, though he could reasonably assume Bucky and Sam would be AWOL for a while. He considered going to help Bucky, but he was fairly sure Rocket and Groot wouldn't _actually_ hurt him - or if they tried, they wouldn't get very far.

Thor, Loki and Heimdall had sequestered themselves at a table with T'Challa, M'Baku, Captain Marvel and several others Steve didn't know some time ago, clearly strategising together - no doubt about the Asgardians and the five infinity stones still in their care. Steve felt again that tug to go and join them, but he wasn't sure it was his place any more - wasn't sure it was even still what he wanted.

Strange had left almost as soon as he'd arrived, taking the time stone with him. After they'd picked him up on Titan, the man had looked prepared to go through any of them to get to the stones - and Steve, having exhausted his capacity for being surprised by anything, just watched the wizard and his rather unique cloak march straight up to where the stones still lay amid the remains of the gauntlet. He'd opened up when he called the Eye of Agamotto, and the time stone had gravitated towards it and settled in place. The amulet snapped shut, closing the green light off from view, and then itself disappeared. Strange had spent the journey back casting protective spells around the other stones and conversing with Thor and Loki, and once they'd reached Wakanda he left through one of his orange portals with assurances that he would be back with advice on what to do with the stones.

Steve looked away, scanning the room for other familiar faces. Shuri, eschewing the politics, had disappeared some time ago with Peter Parker. Despite not knowing either youngster well, Steve had a strong suspicion that it was a friendship everyone else was going to regret. They'd spent much of the night in eager conversation, often with Tony - and although Steve had occasionally been close enough to hear bursts of the excited conversation, he couldn't honestly say he'd understood anything beyond the hellos.

Clint had stayed for only as long as it took to check everyone was alright and get T'Challa to agree to loan him a plane. Once it was arranged, he'd barely stayed long enough to say goodbye before dashing off to find his family - and Natasha had shown him a video, several hours later, of all three of Clint's kids mucking around at the dinner table. It was another part of all of them healed, to see that.

Bruce, never the biggest fan of a large crowd, had left a while ago. Steve had been concerned to see him slip out so quietly, all the same, after the day they'd had. He had meant to follow - but then he saw Natasha leave after Bruce, and knew he wasn't needed.

Bucky had certainly seemed to be enjoying himself, at least up until very recently, and the change in his friend made Steve feel settled in a way he hadn't been in so many years. Bucky seemed happy again, seemed to have found his way back to himself, and he moved easily among people, charming everyone like he'd always used to.

And then there was Tony. Steve couldn't see him at first, and it sent a jolt of worry through him. Tony alone had borne the full weight of all six infinity stones before the rest of them had joined him. What if that had consequences, what if he wasn't alright?

But there he was, visible as a group of people shifted, grinning at the prone form of James Rhodes, who had, by all appearances, just lost a very misguided drinking contest against an Asgardian. Tony patted his rather miserable looking friend on the back, speaking gratefully to one of the Dora Milaje who seemed to have taken pity on Rhodes, and helped him to his feet. They began a staggering walk away from the table, presumably in search of a bed where Rhodes could sleep it off.

Once he was alone, and thought he was unobserved, the grin fell away from Tony's face. He looked older without it, wearier, and he began to make his own way out of the room. But there was something off about the way he was moving, in his gait and the way he skirted around the edge of the space carefully, so different from the presence he usually exuded that meant crowds moved seamlessly for him. It was that off note that made Steve get up to follow, concern overriding the fear that he wouldn't be welcome.

Still, by the time he made it through the crowd and out of the room himself, there was no sign of Tony. There were others standing in the corridor outside, taking advantage of the quieter space to talk, but Tony had clearly already moved on. Steve took a gamble and went in the direction of the guest rooms T'Challa had offered them earlier.

It wasn't long before he was into empty corridors - and not long after that that he came across Tony, sitting against a wall with his head on his knees.

Steve's heart lurched into his mouth. "Tony!"

As he dashed forward, Tony looked up. Caught in his sudden full attention, Steve came to a stop, suddenly faltering.

"Are - are you alright?"

"What?" Tony looked startled, more by Steve's presence than the question. "I'm good."

"Then why are you sitting out here?"

"I got lost," Tony said, and he didn't even try to make it sound like a reasonable cause for his situation.

"Right," Steve said, trying to keep his voice even and remind himself he didn't have the right to be hurt by Tony not being forthcoming. "Well, I'm lost too. Mind if I join you?"

"Can't exactly stop you."

It was hardly a ringing statement of approval, and Steve hesitated before sitting down next to him. It wasn't exactly a surprise if Tony didn't want Steve near him, but he also couldn't in good conscience walk away when he was sure there was something wrong.

He had once, a snide thought in the back of his head reminded him. He'd half killed Tony, and he'd walked away.

It had been to save Bucky, but it was still true. He'd still left.

"How's he doing?" Tony said, quietly, looking at the wall across the corridor. It had to mean something that he asked the question so simply, when it was usually his style to throw in some kind of inappropriate nickname, especially about people he didn't like. And surely too that he didn't even need to say Bucky's name for them to know who he meant.

"He's on the run from the Guardians at the moment," Steve said wryly. "I think they want him for parts."

Tony snorted. Emboldened, Steve continued. "But yeah, he's good. A lot better than he's been in a long time." He chanced a glance across at Tony, trying to read his face. "I saw you two talking?"

"Well, he and I had some things to go through," Tony said, almost dismissively. Then, apparently reconsidering, he made as if to look at Steve then turned his head away again before he got there. "After the whole death match thing, you know. He said he's sorry, about my folks, I said it's not his fault. Everything's simpatico. I threw it out there that I can maintain that stunning new arm if he comes back to the States and doesn't want to have to fly back to Wakanda whenever he damages it, because I'm sure he'll find a way to break it, but he might not want that, could be weird, totally his call."

Tony looked like he might keep going, but Steve jumped in. His heart was in his throat.

"If he goes back to the States? Tony, you know he can't," he said, almost frantic. "They'll arrest him."

"Oh, yeah, about that." Tony shrugged, then grimaced as the movement clearly pained him. On anyone else, his demeanour might seem suspicious, but Steve knew that look. For all Tony's apparent arrogance and narcissism, he was always cagey about the very best things he did. "I've been laying some groundwork, since I read the files. Spreading the word that you guys aren't as bad as Ross has made out; did some stuff to help Barton and Lang. It's not an overnight thing, there's a lot of minds to change, but it's not just Ross - and he still needs me, anyway. People are sympathetic to Barnes, when they know the truth. You too, it's just about how we say it. Leave out the Accords, focus on you saving a war buddy. The old heroes angle, you know. It's not like anyone _wants_ to arrest Captain America. They'll still be on at you to sign the Accords but it's a dialogue now, you can at least read them over, see if they'll change anything that's a real sticking point. End of the day, the world still needs you. You should get to come home, if you want to."

How was it that Tony could sometimes talk so much without saying a single thing, and other times in a few heartbeats change everything Steve thought he knew like it didn't even matter? Steve sank back against the wall, a mere foot of space between their shoulders that might as well have been a mile. His mind was reeling.

"You'd do that?" he said, when his brain finally kicked into gear.

Tony bowed his head a little. "I'm tired of war, Steve."

Steve looked at him - really, properly looked. Tony did look tired. Weary and miserable, the kind of unhappiness that went soul deep. It was all the more a contrast after his apparent cheer that evening and it was so much the opposite of what he deserved to feel after the victory he'd won. And it was just one conversation with Steve that had sufficed to put it there.

They could have been so much more than this, couldn't they? There had been moments like gold dust before their fight and between the arguments, moments when they'd worked together as seamlessly as Steve ever had with Bucky. It was different, though. He'd always been able to count on Bucky at his shoulder, whereas Tony would be somewhere else altogether, thinking five steps ahead, but always there when he was needed. What would it have been like to fight alongside them both? To know he had such unwavering allies on the ground and in the air; Bucky with an eye on the threats coming in the moment, Tony anticipating what was to come and Steve calling the strategy?

The idea made his heart ache with an unexpected ferocity. It was like a wave of grief for something he'd never had, the way things could have been, and the hit of it struck him like physical pain.

"Yeah," he said, and his voice sounded broken. "Me too."

It was so empty, so insufficient, but his thoughts were wild and hard to marshal. Tony didn't speak and Steve took the chance to think, to work out what he could offer in return to everything Tony had said. His words were a paltry recompense for it.

In the silence, he could still hear the music from the hall, the blending of culture from two planets.

"I've always tried to do the right thing," he said haltingly. "My whole life, from a long time before I could really follow through on it. I never wanted what came with being Captain America - to be held up as that example of morality, to have people think I'm this unfailing hero. I make mistakes, and sometimes I make calls that are right for me, not for the world. And that's okay, as a person, but not as a hero. Trying to save Vision even though it let Thanos get the stone, in the end - I believe it's right to take that risk, that one life should always be worth that, but it's not what saves the most people. I'm not what everyone wants me to be. It was like that with Bucky. I couldn't let him get arrested, I couldn't let him die. Despite the fallout. He's my friend, and he's innocent. But it's what Captain America should have done - sign the Accords and let the nations decide what happens to Bucky."

"You wouldn't be you, if you could've let that happen," Tony said, and there was less resentment in his voice than Steve had expected. He sounded understanding, in truth. "Screw the rest of the world - the Avengers only ever needed you, not some ideal of Captain America. I liked you better when I started thinking of you as Steve Rogers."

Tony did look at him now, and Steve almost wished he hadn't. This close, with Tony's defences this lowered, it was horribly easy to see pain in his face. The accusation from Siberia had aged into something even worse, this fragile, confused _hurt_.

"You didn't tell me."

There was no question about what he meant.

Steve nodded, feeling that old twist of guilt. "I know. I should have. I guess I thought I was keeping you from that pain - and, I'm not going to lie to you, I did it to protect Bucky as well. I was wrong, Tony. You had the right to know, and I shouldn't have assumed how you'd react to him."

Tony scoffed, clearly taking those words and channelling them against himself. "You weren't wrong about that though, were you?"

"You were in pain," Steve offered, hesitantly. He was so out of his depth here. How could they possibly talk their way out of everything that had happened, everything they'd done to each other?

But Tony moved like he was trying to push himself up, and fell back again with a grunt of pain. The panic that shot through Steve was as genuine as it had ever been, as sharp and urgent as it would ever be with Bucky - and that, at the end of the day, was the proof. He still cared, more than he was sure he was allowed to any more.

"You _are_ hurt!" he said, glad only that Tony could hardly pretend otherwise any more.

Of course, this was Tony Stark.

"I'm - shit - I'm fine," Tony insisted, repositioning himself in a way that kept the weight off his injured hand and eased the pressure on his abdomen. "Rhodey made sure some people patched me up."

"You don't look fine. You know what they can do here, why didn't you let them heal you properly?"

"They wanted to put me under to do it. I can't - I don't want to go to sleep, not yet. This is fine, the old school way. For a bit longer."

His tone was a little desperate, and Steve suddenly got it. He knew what it was to be holding on by a thread, to fear the nightmares you'd see when you closed your eyes - or worse still, that awful lingering fear that it was the good things that were only a dream, and you'd wake to find the nightmare was real. Steve understood because a part of him was also afraid he'd wake up and find they hadn't succeeded after all.

He wanted to drag Tony along for proper healthcare, get him fixed up as well as he could be, but even though that might be for the best it wasn't what Tony needed right now.

"I sometimes feel," he said softly, "that what I'm trying to get back to isn't something I've ever had. We've done great things as a team, but we never... we were friends, but I don't think I ever knew you as well as I wanted to."

There was a long silence, and when Tony replied his words were so carefully casual that Steve knew how much they mattered to him.

"When I rebuilt the tower, I designed a floor for everyone," he said, a little too fast, avoiding Steve's eyes again in favour of studying the bandage currently immobilising his hand. "All the Avengers. I thought - I don't know. I thought maybe everyone could use it as a base. A home, I guess. It was stupid. We ended up at the compound, that made a lot more sense, and then it all went to hell anyway."

There was an ache, deep in Steve's chest, strong enough to hurt. "I didn't know that," he said, feeling a bit like Tony had hollowed him out.

Tony shrugged, his efforts at being casual still too forced to be believable. "Yeah, well. It's just... not what everyone needed. Not what the team wanted."

Maybe that was true. But maybe... what if they had all lived in Tony's tower after Loki's invasion, a place a lot more homely than the compound ever was? It would have been risky, in a tower in the middle of New York, both from external threats that would come for them and from keeping six people composed of issues and dangerous skills in a confined space. But it wasn't like they'd have had to stay in there, they could just have used it as a collective base. Steve could've come back to a building with friends in it when he needed company, not always an empty apartment. He could've had help learning about the modern world - and that made him think of watching all those movies on his list with the others, bickering over movie choices or whose turn it was to bring the popcorn. He could have learned about tech and all the possibilities of the future watching Tony create it in his workshop. They could all have come together for meals, got to know each other properly, as people and not just powers.

Was that the future Tony had seen for them, and Steve had been too caught up in himself to consider it?

And Bucky - Steve couldn't help that his mind would always come back to Bucky, in the end - when Steve learned the truth about Tony's parents maybe they would have been close enough for him to know how to tell him. Maybe Tony would've helped him find Bucky, been there to understand what had been done to him all along, never would've tried to kill him because he'd have known Bucky wasn't to blame.

It was all just wishful thinking, but it felt so real that it hurt.

"I know we're not friends any more," he began, and despite everything the words still sent a flinch across Tony's face, the smallest crease of hurt. But Steve wasn't done. "I need to stop trying to go back - that's been my problem for a long time. It's not an option, not like we could ever use the time stone again. And I might not have the right to ask this, but... We could start over. We're at nothing now, but we were at nothing when we met. We could try to start again. To do better, this time."

Tony looked at him at last. His eyes flicked between Steve's, like he was trying to see into his head.

"What if this was the first battle we'd fought together, then?" Tony said, and his voice gave away everything his face didn't - it was hoarse, threaded through with the most fragile hint of hope. "If nothing else had come before, and we'd just met defeating Thanos together."

"Well, for one thing, I'd get you properly checked out by medical professionals," Steve said, deadpan, and it was worth it for the huff of breath Tony gave that might have been the edge of laughter. Hope pounded, radiant, in Steve's chest. "I guess, seeing my new teammate who's clearly tired and hurting but has his reasons for not wanting to sleep, I'd see if he wanted to acquire some food from our hosts and find somewhere to watch all the terrible B movies we can find."

Tony smiled, and it transformed his face - throwing off the shadows and grief, and he looked just as relieved as Steve felt.

"That's cheating," he said, shaking his head. "You wouldn't know how much I love shitty movies."

"I didn't know you do," Steve said gently, and even though it was another admission of the distance that had always been between them, it felt like a victory because now he _did_ know. Now, it was a bridge, and there were so many more to find.

Steve pushed himself up into a crouch, and offered his hands. Tony shifted slowly, and Steve could imagine how much his body had stiffened up, the wounds hurting more than ever with the movement. When Tony reached out in return, Steve helped him up, supporting his forearms rather than risking his injured hand.

"Where d'you reckon," Tony said, as they took a moment to let him steady himself, "T'Challa keeps the movie room? You just know there's a massive private cinema around here somewhere."

Steve grinned, feeling something settle deep inside him. It wasn't like meeting Tony for the first time - it never could be, really. But this was better than their first meeting, by far. They'd started so badly, found something better along the way and then lost it all - but now he knew what this friendship was worth, what it could be, and how much it was worth protecting.

"Let's go find it, then. Lead the way, Mr Stark."


End file.
